


ruined by praise

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: It had been one thing when he and Steve were evenly matched.It's another thing altogether to be the quarterback's boyfriend going down on him after he'd led the team to a 38-35 victory at State.Tony has a praise kink. Steve is perfectly happy to oblige.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 246
Collections: POTS (18+) Twink Tony Bingo 2020





	ruined by praise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starksnack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/gifts), [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/gifts).



> The POTS server needed a praise kink fill. Who am I to deny them?
> 
> Title from a Norman Vincent Peale quote. TECHNICALLY it's underage because they're in the fall of their senior year; they're both 17 in this. Because dealing with Tony's genius and him skipping grades was just... more than my plague!brain could handle. Enabled by Ven and Kait, beta'ed by Kait, any remaining issues are my plague!brain's fault. Enjoy the smut!!

"You're so good for me."

Tony's eyelids flutter from where they've fallen closed. He's covered in sweat, his knees ache worse than they ever have, and his throat feels raw. It had been one thing to be the scrawny, arrogant genius that he's always been. Once upon a time, he had Steve in his corner to back him up even though neither of them could fight worth a damn. That's what James and James were for. But then the summer after freshman year happened and then football happened and for two years there had been a canyon between them that Tony had no idea how to bridge. It had been one thing when he and Steve were evenly matched.

It's another thing altogether to be the quarterback's boyfriend going down on him after he'd led the team to a 38-35 victory at State. When said quarterback's hand is big enough that his fingers stretch from ear to ear across the back of Tony's head.

"Such a good little slut."

Tony whimpers, pressing his tongue harder against the base of Steve's dick. His mouth should have gone dry twelve minutes ago, but this — Steve's hand in his hair and Steve's dick in his mouth — is enough to have him salivating even now.

"Tony? Babe?"

Tony fumbles a hand out to wrap around Steve's ankle, squeezing once, a silent assertion that everything's okay. He can feel Steve relax.

Steve presses his thumb in the hollow behind Tony's right ear. "God, you're just gagging for it, aren't you? Desperate."

Tony exhales slowly through his nose. These aren't words the Steve of old would have given him. The first time they'd tried this, both scrawny and awkward, Steve had been the perfect gentleman. But this Steve knows better. This Steve knows his way around Tony's body. This Steve knows him well enough to speak the truth.

He knows Tony really is gagging for it.

Steve leans back, planting one hand on the bench behind him. The locker room has long since emptied out, but Steve has a key and no one had looked twice when Tony had slunk in and staked his claim on Steve's mouth as the celebrations from their victory started to wind down. In fact, Tony's pretty sure the team has never cleared out of the home locker room faster.

What can he say? He has a rep.

Steve tugs on Tony's hair, pulling him off of his dick all at once. Tony chokes on the absence and there's a string of saliva still connecting him to Steve's dick. He blinks through his tears, staring up at Steve. Steve's staring back at him, his eyes bright blue and clear as the sky.

Tony tries to track Steve's eyes as he leans in close. He loses sight of them when Steve gets too close, his mouth hovering scant centimeters from Tony's. "I can hear you thinking from here."

"Must mean you're not doing your job."

Steve smirks — actually smirks! — as though that was the response he was hoping to get. "Yeah?" Before Tony can reply, Steve has slid back on the bench and hauled Tony up to force his head back down on Steve's dick. "Then I guess I'd better do my job."

Tony closes his eyes, his whole body twisting up tight at the sensation of Steve controlling his every movement. He scrambles for purchase on the bench, on Steve's thighs, but the bench is too narrow and Steve's thighs are too thick. Tony keens somewhere in the back of his throat, but Steve doesn't let up, moving his hips and Tony's head in concert to fuck his face. It's exactly what Tony's been wanting and exactly what he'd never thought he could have.

Steve's always been too polite for this kind of thing, and always would be. Or so Tony had thought.

"That's what you need, isn't it Tones? Need me to take charge? Take control? Need me to take care of you?" Steve holds Tony's head down, and Tony can feel his throat fluttering around the head of Steve's dick while he tries not to gag. "Or maybe you just need me to let you take care of me."

Tony whimpers.

"You're so good at it, aren't you? So good at taking care of me." Steve lets up just enough to return to the gentle roll of his hips that he'd been using before. "You got me home after every practice where I just wanted to stay here and give up. You sat there and got me to do all my school work so I wouldn't get put on probation. You waited there in the stands, all ready for me to do whatever it took to win this, even when no one else thought I could. And now you're letting me pay it all back.

"You're letting me fuck you up and take you apart and do whatever I want to to make you mine."

Tony reaches down instinctively, pressing the heel of his hand to the base of his cock to keep from coming. His shoulders pull up to his ears as he teeters on the edge of coming. He can come just from Steve's words — he has before — and if Steve just fucks his throat a little harder—

Steve pulls Tony off of him, tugging his head up and back so that Tony has to meet his eyes. Steve is lounging back on the bench, his other elbow propping him up to look at Tony. "Uh uh."

Tony blinks through the haze of his lust. "What?"

Steve smiles at how wrecked Tony's voice is. He slips his hand from Tony's hair, ignoring the tiny sound of loss that Tony makes at that, and slowly runs his thumb over Tony's bottom lip. Tony's lips part automatically in an effort to pull his lips, sore from all the kissing and Steve fucking his face, away from Steve's callus-rough thumb. "You come on my cock or not at all, baby."

Tony groans, planting his face into Steve's thigh. He smells like sweat and leather and grass from that tackle in the third quarter. He could drown in that scent. "Fuck, Steve."

Steve laughs. "That's the idea." Then he sits up and manhandles Tony up into his lap, jean-clad thighs spread on either side of Steve's naked ones.

Tony wrinkles his nose when he realizes that Steve's sitting bare-assed on the bench. "You know, there really are so many other, better, _cleaner_ places we could have done this."

When he looks back up at Steve, he gets only a smug grin in response. Steve pulls his head in close, nipping at Tony's earlobe. "Not my fault you're so fuckin' horny."

Tony can't really argue with that. Especially not when Steve reaches around to grip his ass and press his first two fingers perfectly against the plug that's been settled between his cheeks since the end of the game.

Steve exhales, chuckling lowly. "See? Horny."

Then he slides both hands into the back of Tony's pants, gripping his ass cheeks and pulling them apart. One thumb finds the base of the plug, rubbing it rhythmically and teasing Tony's prostate. Tony gasps, arching against him, fingers gripping tight to his shoulders.

"Now. You were saying something about somewhere cleaner?"

"Oh my god, fuck you, Rogers, just fuck me."

Steve laughs, bright and amused at Tony's impatience. When he looks back at Tony, the affection is writ large on his features. "Then unbutton your jeans and I'll give you what you deserve."

Tony doesn't need to be told twice. He undoes his pants, and Steve uses that and the hands he has on Tony's ass to slide his jeans all the way off. He manhandles Tony easily enough that he gets both of his legs out of the jeans without letting him go. Despite Tony's protests, he turns Tony to face away from him, pressing his rock-hard cock against the small of Tony's back, smearing precome over his skin and nestling his balls just above Tony's asshole.

Steve leans in, making Tony shiver with his heated breath on his neck. "What do you say?" His voice is caramel sticky-sweet. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Language," Tony says on a gasp, but Steve retaliates by tweaking one of Tony's nipples through the t-shirt he's wearing under Steve's letterman's jacket. "God, yes. Yes, Steve, yes, please fuck me, please, just—"

Steve noses the jacket aside to bite down on the junction between Tony's neck and his shoulder. "How do you want it?"

"I—" Tony stops short. He knows what he wants, but Steve— will Steve go for it?

Steve runs his nose up the back of Tony's neck, leaning in close. "Go on, babe. Tell me."

Tony whimpers, turning toward Steve and seeking his mouth out blindly. Steve responds in kind, fucking his tongue into Tony's mouth in a clear imitation of what he intends to do with Tony's ass. Tony shudders and pulls away, eyes still closed. "Face down."

Steve inhales sharply. "Yeah?"

"God, yeah, babe. I want you to just… just fuckin' use me. You're the one that just won State. You deserve—"

"I just want my boyfriend."

Tony smiles. It's exactly what he'd always wanted to hear from a lover, and Steve's always been the best of the best. "I know. But I want you to fuck me up. Use me. Take me apart. Fuck me up and…" He leans in to kiss Steve's lips. "And tell me how much you love me."

Steve reaches up with one hand, pulling Tony into a searing kiss. Tony parts his lips, welcoming the reminder of who he belongs to. He feels tiny in Steve's embrace, whittled down to his core, flayed alive.

All for Steve. Only ever for Steve.

"Always."

"Good. Then fuck me up, babe."

"As you wish."

Tony's lips part on a gasp, and for all that he wants to blame it on the way Steve pulls the plug out in one smooth motion, he'd be lying if he said that.

Steve hums, nosing at Tony's neck as he slips the plug into one of the pockets of the jacket. "God, listen to you. So needy for me. So fuckin' beautiful for me."

Tony moans at the movement, the motion, the way he can't help but lean into the touch, to arch away, to _feel_ in that way that Steve always makes him feel. Steve slides two fingers inside of him, stretching and testing and "Fuck, Steve, come _on_."

Steve doesn't need to be told again. In one fluid motion, he lifts Tony bodily, gets out from under him, plants Tony's torso on the bench, and lifts his hips, angling them just so.

The air leaves Tony's lungs in a rush. As much as he loved Steve before his growth spurt and will love him after too, he can't deny how hot it is to be manhandled like this. He melts against the bench, sprawling his hands above his head, He knows how much Steve loves the way it lengthens his back, making him look even lankier than he already is.

Steve squeezes his hips with both hands. "You're a fuckin dream, you know that?" Tony shivers, and Steve leans into it. He presses his chest against Tony's back, his cock nudging at his hole. "Such a pretty little thing for me. So goddamn gorgeous."

"Steve—"

Steve pulls back, leaving Tony's back chilled and leaving him bereft. Before Tony can say another thing, Steve spreads his ass cheeks apart and slides his cock home. Tony gasps, arching against the touch, but before he can scramble too far, Steve grabs him by the neck, forcing his head back down onto the bench. "Easy there, babe."

Tony whines, trying to push his hips back against Steve's cock and his head up into Steve's hand at the same time. There's tension and want radiating through his whole body, but— oh, there it is.

Steve presses his thumb against that spot behind Tony's right ear again. "Easy. You're still gorgeous even when you're patient. So be _patient_."

As soon as Tony stops squirming and pushing against him, Steve starts up a long, slow, easy glide, fucking in and out of Tony in that way that always has Tony melting against him. Tony doesn't try to fight it. Steve's been it for him since they were kids, and this is no exception.

"There you go, babe. So good for me. Looking out for me. Taking care of me. So fuckin' good."

Tony clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip, letting sensation take him over.

"That's it. You did so good through this whole run. Now it's my turn to take care of you. Fuck you open the way you always beg me to. Take you apart like you always want me to. I'm gonna give you what you want, Tony, because you're so. damn. good." He punctuates each of the last three words with a sharper thrust, pushing Tony further up the bench. Tony pushes up onto the balls of his feet, trying to keep his balance without moving too far away from Steve. Steve chuckles low and easy. "So damn good."

"Steve—"

That single word is enough. Steve knows him, and he knows what that means. Steve leans down, kissing the back of Tony's neck once, soft and tender. "Okay, baby."

Then Steve pulls away, tightens his grip on Tony's hips, and starts fucking him in earnest.

Tony's back arches automatically at that, his hips pressing up closer to Steve while he scrabbles at the bench.

"Look at you. Such a pretty thing. Look at that fuckin' back. Got my colors on, don't you? Got my name on you?"

Tony laughs, feeling the possessive tint to Steve's words down to his marrow. He tosses a grin over his shoulder. "You gonna fuck me in your jersey next time?"

Steve growls. "Don't say shit you don't mean."

Tony smirks. "You don't want to see that? Don't want to see your jersey swallowing me whole? Hmm?"

Steve grabs Tony by the back of his neck, forcing his head down against the bench again. "You think you can take me like that? Think you can handle me fucking your pretty twink ass raw while you're swimming in my clothes?"

"I'm doing it now, aren't I?"

Steve hums, slowing his thrusts. "You think this is anything like what I'll do to you in my jersey?"

There's a storm brewing behind those words. "Steve—"

"Think seeing my name on your back isn't gonna fuck me up even more than this? Think seeing how I _own you_ isn't going to take me apart down to the seams?"

Tony inhales, feeling the words light a fire under his skin. "Oh, fuck."

There's a smile in Steve's words when he speaks next. "Yeah. Yeah, that's the idea."

Steve lifts Tony's hips, pulling him onto his toes as Steve fucks into him. Tony whimpers and whines while Steve goes on whispering everything Tony's always wanted him to say in his ear. Tony closes his eyes, torn between trying to fuck back against Steve and letting his boyfriend take him apart with his own strength. In the end, Steve takes the decision out of his hands, reaching around and brushing his fingertips over Tony's shaft, toying with the head, and then Tony's just gone, coming over Steve's fingers and the bench and the floor. Steve brings his hands back to Tony's hips, fucking into him until he's overstimulated and Steve's coming inside of him. Tony shivers at the feeling; they really should have used a condom, but at this exact minute Tony _really doesn't care_.

Steve stays buried inside him for a long minute, nose pressed to the damp hair at Tony's nape before pulling out. Tony shivers at the feeling and is about to start standing up himself when Steve slips a hand into the pocket of the jacket Tony's wearing.

Tony yelps, but Steve holds him firm, pulling the plug out and then easing it into Tony's ass again. Tony inhales sharply.

Steve pulls him upright then, turning him around to kiss him deeply. Tony pulls back just far enough to murmur his next words against Steve's lips. "The hell was that for?"

He feels Steve smile against him. "What can I say? I like the idea of fucking you in my jersey when I get you home."

Tony inhales sharply. "Yeah?"

Steve grins, kissing him again. "Yeah. Gotta get home to see ma, but… well, she's got the late shift tonight, so."

Steve lets the offer hang in the air, not pushing or pressing the way Tony's other trysts might have. But Steve isn't a tryst. Steve is _his_ just as much as he's Steve's. Tony smiles and leans up to kiss him again. "You offerin' to take me home, hotshot?"

Steve laughs, relieved, and kisses Tony one more time. "Only if you're gonna say yes, babe."

"Well then." Tony pulls away reaching for his jeans. If he leans over just enough to show off the plug in his ass, that's no one's business but his and Steve's. "Guess I can't disappoint your ma, now, can I?"

Steve grabs him by the waist, pulling him in so Tony's back is pressed against his chest. "No, I daresay you can't."

Tony smirks and pulls away to put his jeans back on. "You want me to drive?"

"You know I like showing up in my boyfriend's sweet ride."

Tony laughs. "No wonder the only girl you ever snagged was Peggy. She's the only one that's got a ride even close to as sweet as mine."

"Yeah, well, she's back across the pond, and I'd much rather ride with you." Steve gathers Tony in his arms. "What do you say? Come home with me?"

Tony melts, but manages to refrain from giving in so easily. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

Tony hesitates, then grins, tugging at the jersey Steve's still wearing over his pads. "You don't wash this thing before you fuck me."

Steve's pupils dilate and his breath catches. "You've got it."

"Good. Then I'll see you out front in five minutes."

Steve nods, turning to strip out of his gear. Tony forces himself to turn on his heel and walk away. Staring at Steve isn't going to get them home. He needs to bring the car around and get them there, and then?

Well, what comes next is all up to Steve.


End file.
